


Making Me Happy

by Lost_Elf



Series: Rhyscest [1]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Atlas CEO Rhys, Developing Relationship, Fluff, I blame Lem, Idiots in Love, Is this the weirdest thing I've ever written?, Is this too many tags for 6k words?, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Lorelei joins Atlas even though the war doesn’t happen, Love Confessions, M/M, Mildly crack fic but serious, Minor Angst, Mutual Pining, Narcissism, Pre-Tales from the Borderlands Rhys/Atlas CEO Rhys, Rhys just wants Rhys to be happy, Rhyscest - Freeform, Sasha never loved him sorry, Selfcest, Time Skips, What Have I Done, Zero is also there, and why tearing them out was bad for his health, big focus on Rhys' cybernetics, but surprisingly small, serious tags now:, seriously this is wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26092006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf
Summary: The Vault gave them full understanding of time travel and dimension hopping. Fiona hopped right back home. Rhys… made a short stop somewhere else.Rhys just wanted to make himself happy, to spare himself pain. He didn't expect the Rhys that he brought from another dimension to become more than an ally. But he wasn't about to complain.
Relationships: Rhys/Rhys (Borderlands), rhyscest
Series: Rhyscest [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941706
Kudos: 12





	Making Me Happy

**Author's Note:**

> This is fucked up but also wholesome and I think everybody should read it. It became weirdly philosophical, but I won't go into the detail here. Maybe in the E/N.
> 
> Enjoy this rarepair! Seriously, I just raised the number of works for this pairing in English by 100%. :D
> 
> EDIT: I tried to fix some grammatical errors and typos in this, but I think I managed to make it worse. 'XD

The Vault gave them full understanding of time travel and dimension hopping. Fiona hopped right back home. Rhys… made a short stop somewhere else.

It was weird walking the halls of Helios after months of staring at its ruins. Everybody around him was pretty much alive – except for the occasional corpse of someone who was recently taken down – but it felt like a graveyard. Maybe it was a foreboding, knowing that they will all be dead once the events are set into motion tomorrow. Maybe it was his own guilt. Who knows if this universe would go down the same path?

Rhys knew exactly where to go, looking for himself in his former home. He had found his younger self in his apartment – or well, it was more of a shoe box. Even with all the extra money he had earned over the years, he couldn’t afford one of the executive suits and had to live in a one room apartment. The whole thing was about as big as the bedroom of his new home.

“What the heeeell…” his past self drawls, staring at him. “Wh-who… Who _are_ you?”

Rhys smirks. “You,” he says, thinking it sounds kinda cool. “From the future… The future in another dimension. It’s… complicated.” He chuckls while his old self keeps staring at him, occasionally rubbing his eyes.

Rhys stares back, because there is a lot to look at. His old self – ugh, he _really_ needs to come up with a nickname or something – was only wearing pyjama bottoms when he hacked his way in. He is softer around the middle than present-Rhys, still a spoiled child of Hyperion, not toughened up by Pandora. His old yellow arm looks ridiculous compared to the new sleek silver one. But with his hair tousled and not gelled up, he looks surprisingly… cute.

He was never able to see himself like that before. In mirrors, photos, videos, sure, but seeing himself like this is so different. For the first time, he is able to see how good he looks. Rhys was aware that he is pretty, but in his head, it had always been a mere _concept_ , something he could barely wrap his mind around. Until now. Now he knows that he really is attractive. _Handsome_.

“Hmm, how would you like being called Handsome Rhys?” he askshis past self.

“Wh-what?” the other Rhys gasps, as if only now remembering that his hallucination can also speak. “What d-do you mean? L-like Handsome Jack?”

Rhys’ mouth twists at the name, even hearing it feeling like tasting something sour. “Handsome Jack is old news,” he says after a while. “There are new sharks in the pond. Smarter sharks and... less bloodthirsty.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the younger, no uhm, old Rhys, wait…

“I’ll call you Cupcake for now, we like that one,” Rhys decides. “Seriously, you need to pick a different name.”

“But it’s my name!” Cupcake frowns. “I have no idea who you are! What do you mean future, time travelling, Handsome… _Rhys_?” he makes the same sour face Rhys did seconds ago.

 _Their name_ , Rhys wants to correct him, but the more he thinks about it, the less sure he is about that. They are _not_ the same person. Not really. Not even like twins, it’s… complicated. They have been one until Rhys opened the door. Now they are completely different people. This Rhys— no, _Cupcake_ will never become him.

“Look, to make it short – I opened a Vault and became the CEO of Atlas. Well, I _first_ became the CEO and _then_ opened a Vault. The Vault allowed me to travel here. I didn’t know what I wanted to do when I find you, but I’ve got an idea now.” He fixes his outfit, puts his CEO face on. “I’ve got a deal for you. You come with me and I give you the life you deserve. If you stay here on Helios, Vasquez will steal your job tomorrow, Yvette will stab you in the back, and Helios will crash into Pandora, killing millions of people. Vaughn will go crazy and become a bandit lord. But if you come with me… You can prevent all of that.”

Is it manipulation? What he is saying _is_ the truth. Almost the full truth. And if Cupcake asks, he will tell him the whole story. And they can even go back into this dimension someday. But for now, he wants to show this Rhys what life he can get if he follows the right ideals.

“What do you say?” he asks, offering a hand. “A world where Rhys Strongfork is the CEO of Atlas, a Vault Hunter and a friend with people like Zer0, the assassin who killed Handsome Jack? Or the world where you are in for months of betrayal, pain, and fighting for your own life? Where you will barely escape the crash in a broken escape pod? Where your friends will leave you, and the girl you thought you loved will not bother to ask what happened to you when the space station itself tried to have you killed?”

“That’s crazy,” Cupcake mutters, running a hand through his hair. “C-can’t I get some time to decide? Like a week? No, wait, you said it will go down tomorrow, right? B-but I’m supposed to get a promotion tomorrow! Shit, I don’t know!”

“You can always come back here, to the same point,” Rhys reminds him. “Time travel and dimension hopping, remember?”

“I…” Cupcake gulps, fidgeting with the fabric of his pants. It’s old and stretched out, cotton that is covered in lumps and tiny holes. Rhys is now sleeping in silk pyjamas, and he’ll make sure Cupcake gets the same luxury. They will be super rich once they combine the Vault technology with Atlas weapons.

“C’mon, Cupcake… Let me show you what life can be…” Rhys wiggles his fingers suggestively.

“I…” the past Rhys hesitates for couple more seconds, eyes darting to a photo on his wall. It’s him and Vaughn on a trip to a bar on the executive floor. Rhys hacked their way in regularly, getting them a taste of what _could_ be. “O-okay…” he says and gulps. “I guess we can always come back and… prevent things from going down…”

 _Or speed them up_ , Rhys thinks, but he doesn’t say it. Instead, he grins, feeling giddy. He is doing something for himself— No, for a different man. For Cupcake, who would be demoted to a janitor tomorrow and then get stuck on Pandora and download a program to his cybernetics that would change his life.

“Put on your best clothes and follow me,” Rhys says, barely concealing a giggle.

* * *

The device Rhys used to make the travel possible overheated when it carried them both back into his world, making him grateful that he decided to hop right back into his office and not to the Vault gate, because then they would have to travel home on foot.

“So, what do you say?” he asks, turning to Cupcake. Maybe he should call him Rhys Two? Thinking of himself as Cupcake seems narcissistic. Then again, Rhys Two is not him.

“Well, for one I’d say I’ve never had an office this big,” Rhys Two says. “It’s nice. But I imagined something… different when you said Atlas?”

“It’s an old Atlas base on Pandora. What was left after Handsome Jack destroyed the company, and Athena – a vengeful assassin you don’t want to meet – took care of the rest. But we’ll be moving up soon, don’t worry. I got a tip about Promethea, and I already set the plans into motion. With all the alien technology I got in the Vault, we’ll have the necessary finances in no time.”

“Alien technology?” Rhys Two looks up from studying a mining report he found on the table. Always the data-miner, isn’t he? He doesn’t deactivate his ECHOeye in time, and the blue light doesn’t escape Rhys. He flashes his golden eye in return.

“Why don’t you sit with me and have a look?” he suggests, motioning towards his chair. When Rhys Two sits down, Rhys perches himself on the edge of his desk and starts describing all the cool stuff he just got his hands on, and his new-born plans on how to use them. To his pleasant surprise, Rhys Two joins in, adding his own ideas. He lacks some of Rhys’ knowledge, but sometimes not having full insight is helpful. Outsider’s eye and all that jazz.

But the time shift eventually gets to them. Rhys Two should be long asleep now, as it would be three in the morning in his dimension. His eyes close every couple seconds, and not even the coffee Rhys serves him helps.

“I think it’s time I show you my quarters and you go to bed,” Rhys suggests. “It’s been a crazy day; you deserve some sleep.”

“Mm-hm,” Rhys Two hums sleepily. Rhys Two is a stupid nickname, dammit.

The CEO gets up and opens a secret door leading straight to his private quarters. Well, they haven’t always been _his_ , but he’d already done a lot of changes to this place, so it feels like home. He shows the other Rhys around, shows him to the bathroom and then lets him sleep in his bed. He can take the couch tonight, it’s not like he ever gets much sleep with the nightmares that haunt him and the headaches.

As every night, Rhys was soon woken up with a startle. A phantom pain bloomed in his temple and forced him to move, to run from inexistent danger in belated survival instinct. Instead of getting a glass of water though, as he usually did, he creeped into his bedroom and watched the other man slept peacefully. He recognised the position Cupcake was sleeping in – cybernetic hand laying limply on his side, the organic one clutching the comforter on his stomach, one leg shifted slightly to the side. His pants were probably moved down a little, maybe even revealing his lack of underwear underneath them. Rhys didn’t get him to use a sleepshirt, so his tattoos were in plain sight in the faint light of his digital clock. He usually slept like that after a long day.

The man in his bed was beautiful. Breathtakingly so, in the faint orange light. His lips were slightly parted, brows furrowed. Rhys wanted to go and smooth the expression out, make sure that this man never had to worry about anything ever again. But not yet. He would have to prove himself in other ways first.

* * *

**Six months later**

_“Rhys, Mr Parker wishes to speak with you privately. He claims he has a better deal than last time. Should I let him in?”_

The voice of his PA came at the worst possible moment. Rhys activated his ECHOeye and used it to activate the intercom. “No,” he said. “I’m with someone, I don’t have time for that. Tell him to leave a copy with you, go over it if you have time. Thanks.”

“As you wish,” the PA replied, and the line went silent. Rhys let out a breath. It was about time he made Rhysie’s existence known to everybody, but he didn’t have the courage to do it yet. He never told anyone about his ability to dimension hop and travel through time, and he dreaded the explaining he would have to do. Some people knew about Rhysie – a lot of people in Medical, for example – but not everybody, not even Zer0 or Lorelei.

It was obvious that it bothered Rhysie when he gave Rhys a sad smile, dutifully remaining silent during the call. Rhys couldn’t bear it, and he tugged the corner of the other man’s lips up with a thumb, forcing a bigger smile on him. Like every time he had done that, Rhysie giggled.

“There, better,” Rhys hummed and went back to what he was doing. Rhysie stilled when his fingers touch his naked shoulder, holding tight to get leverage to push his new arm into the new port. It was not as fancy as the one Rhys had made for himself, but at least it was not a prototype but already the whole thing, all bugs caught and fixed. Only the best for his Rhysie.

A satisfying _click_ sounded in the room, and the arm powered up. The software was preinstalled, and it only ran a quick diagnostic before giving the younger man full control of it. Immediately, he flexed his fist, then moved the arm around, watching the joints move smoothly. It was perfect.

“So, what do you think?” Rhys asks with a grin on his face that he doesn’t bother to try and hide. “Ten out of ten would recommend?”

“Yeah, definitely cool,” Rhysie confirms, smiling as he watches his fingers wiggle rapidly – something his old Hyperion arm could never do. “I mean, it’ll take time to discover and try out all the functions, but I can already tell that it’s much better than the old one.”

“Great!” Rhys chimes, pressing a kiss to Rhysie’s cheek and turning away, cleaning up the mess on his desk. He hears a gasped inhale behind himself and then hesitant steps, and then Rhys wraps his arms around his waist, his head coming to rest on Rhys’ left shoulder.

“Thank you,” the half-naked man whispers into his ear, nuzzling the side of his head affectionately. It makes Rhys smile and feel warm. Rhysie always took longer to warm up and get over his hesitance, whatever caused it at the moment, but once he did, he was even more affectionate than Rhys. Maybe Pandora desensitised him, or maybe he was really a completely different man, but in this, he wasn’t the same, and he loved it. Loved where they were different and loved where they were the same.

Rhys turns around in the hug, wrapping his arms around Rhysie’s shoulders. “You know you don’t need to thank me,” he says, looking him in the eyes. Seeing the brown and blue is fascinating, because it’s probably their biggest difference. His own blue eye is hidden in a small box stuffed under their mattress.

“Stop staring,” Rhysie says cockily, but Rhys can see through the act and see his nervousness.

“Oh shut up,” he says, smiling. “You’re beautiful.” Slowly, he leans in and presses a kiss just under his doppelganger’s left eye.

“But you keep staring at it,” Rhysie whines, even as he shivers and his eyes flutter shut, his body relaxing instinctively into the gentle gestures. There has never been anything else but just that – gentle gestures and even gentler kisses, but it is enough for them right now. They are only just discovering this world they are daring together.

“I want it gone,” Rhysie confesses quietly. This is not the first time they’ve talked about it, and he knows where this conversation will inevitably go, so he avoids Rhys’ eyes as he continues. “I know it reminds you of him. We can just replace the lens; it wouldn’t be that invasive and—”

“No,” Rhys says firmly, pursing his lips. “I already said no. I won’t put you through that.” It gets harder every day to remain firm about it, because he can’t take the sadness that always appears on Rhysie’s face, but he also can’t take the thought of Rhysie suffering the same consequences as he does.

“The chances of complications are tiny compared to what you went through,” Rhysie pipes in, barely above a whisper, his breath stuttering once. He knows too well what’s going on in Rhys’ head right now. He drops the topic when Rhys shakes his head, expression grim. Instead, Rhysie presses their lips together lightly until Rhys relaxes and returns the shy kiss.

“We should get back to work,” he says, even though he doesn’t want to. “I’ll see you in the evening, alright?”

Rhysie nods, but the sad smile remains on his face, tugging at Rhys’ heart. As every time, he taps his metallic fingers on the glass of the fish tank as he walks alongside it and then dips to the side, disappearing in the hidden door leading to the private elevator that will take him right to the penthouse. One can never be too careful when it comes to safety.

Rhys collapses in his chair, texting his PA rather than speaking to him that his meeting is over. Getting his Rhysie everything he wants is so hard.

* * *

The whole left side of Rhys’ body is seized up, teeth clenched tight and muscles locked up, while the right side is trembling hard. He can barely hear Richie’s hurried movements as he takes the pillow away from under his head and then runs to the bathroom for Rhys’ medicine. The seizure is not gone by the time he gets back, and because all they can do is to wait it out, he sits next to the CEO and takes his right hand in his right carefully.

Eventually, the spasms come less and less often until they die out completely. Rhys’ body relaxes, though he keeps shaking. Keeping his burning eyes firmly shut, he opens his mouth, allowing Richie to press a pill past his trembling lips, followed by the edge of a glass with water. He swallows it all dutifully and waits for the medicine to take effect.

“You should have gone to bed when I told you,” Richie says next to him sadly. “This day was hard as it was. You should have—”

“Richie,” Rhys interrupts him, voice heavy with exhaustion, and the younger man shuts up, instead curling up next to him with his head on his chest. “Am alright,” Rhys added, bringing his organic hand up to weave his fingers through Richie’s hair. The nickname was still new, but he was quickly getting used to it. It didn’t feel right, but it was the one they all agreed on.

They laid in silence while Rhys’ body slowly went back to normal, strength and full control returning to him. When he moved to sit up – as he still needed to take a shower and strip out of his work clothes – Richie eyed him warily, biting his lip. Rhys reached over to thumb at the tormented skin, gently urging the younger man to release it.

“Please, don’t go to the office tomorrow,” Richie said as soon as his lips were free, as if he couldn’t hold the words in any longer.

“I’ll be fine in the morning, babe,” Rhys brushed him off with a smile. Any concerns were unfounded – he was always alright after those seizures, and it had been proven that he was actually getting better. There was no reason at all to make him stay in bed because of a small neural dysfunction. But he knew that Richie wouldn’t be satisfied by that, and so he added: “You know what? If I have a migraine in the morning, I’ll take the whole day off and focus on spoiling you.”

“Okay,” the younger man hummed sadly, looking into his lap.

Something crumbled inside of Rhys, and he cupped the other man’s face, his cybernetic thumb resting just under the blue eye. He forced a smile as it focused on him again, and finally said what he knew he would have to allow one day. “You should get the surgery,” he breathed out, only a little of the fear and tension he was fighting on the inside slipping outside. “Get any colour you want, but only this model and lower, no prototypes,” he gestured towards his own ECHOeye. “The first series will be the most compatible with your cybernetics, but even the later ones can be adjusted.”

The younger man inhaled sharply and tensed up, teeth one more time closing on his lip. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.

“I’m not saying that only to placate you,” Rhys lied. “Now that you’ll be showing up publicly, you should be wearing the best anyway. Pure Atlas brand and stuff.” And now he was acting like an asshole. Where did he pick that coping mechanism up?

* * *

As luck would have it, Rhys woke up whining in pain the next day. Before he could even rub sleep out of his eyes, he was handed his painkillers and a glass of water. The pills were super strong, designed specifically for him, and they worked every time, but he still often had to stop himself from taking two doses at once as his instincts screamed at him.

Before the pain dissipated, the penthouse was filled with the sweet scent of pancakes and coffee. Richie had a wide smile on his face when he brought the breakfast to their bedroom on a tray, allowing them to eat in bed.

Rhys sighed but smiled. “I see you remember my yesterday’s words. There is for hope I’ll somehow get to escape this fate.”

“Nope, you are stuck here,” Richie retorted in a singsong voice. “Now call your PA that you’re taking a day off, and then you can have a small cup of coffee.”

“You little bloodsucker,” Rhys grumbled playfully but dialled Lorelei’s number. She would know who to contact further. When the line connected, he gave her a half-smile. “Hey!” he says cheerily. “I’m taking a day off because I had an episode yesterday and a headache this morning, and Richie won’t let me go to the office. Can you let everybody know?”

“Yeah, sure! I’m glad you’re getting some rest!” Lorelei answers. Unaware of the other man’s presence, she adds: “I’m beginning to like that guy, he’s a good influence on you!”

“He’s an angel,” Rhys agrees, smiling. Introducing the doppelganger to his friends and staff yesterday went well, after all.

“Sure he is,” Lorelei scoffs. “Go fuck yourself, boss!” she says with an almost kind smile and the line cuts off. Rhys turns to Richie, who is giggling like a happy idiot. Rhys loves it. He didn’t tell his friends about the true depth of their relationship, because it didn’t feel wise. When they inevitably asked, he told them that if there is anything between them, it’s purely platonic. And mostly, it was the truth. Besides late-night cuddles and long, gentle kisses, they didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.

They ate in silence, stuffing their bellies full of pancakes and ice-cream, and afterwards they stayed in bed, bodies intertwined loosely. Richie burrowed his face in the crook of Rhys’ neck and refused to look up, and so Rhys wrapped his arms around him and stroked his back lightly, offering him comfort.

“You had a nightmare tonight,” the younger man says eventually, words muffled by Rhys’ skin. “You were saying his name… and mine. Mine mostly. Begging me not to do something… What have I done?”

“I dunno,” Rhys mumbles, even as he remembers clearly one of his nightmares that is becoming more and more common – his other self getting a virus in his cybernetics and being forced to tear them off his own body. “Nightmares don’t make sense; it could have been anything.”

Richie nods, but he doesn’t seem soothed. After some huffing and gathering courage, he speaks again. “I don’t like the name we chose,” he confesses. “It’s nice but it’s not me. I’m not Richard, I’m _me_.”

This complaint sounds even more mournful than the previous one, and Rhys’ focus spikes up, even though the painkillers always make him a little numb. “What should we call you, then?” he asks, voice concerned. He wouldn’t want to force the younger man to give up on something as important as his own name.

“I don’t know, it’s complicated!” comes a whiny answer. “I understand that they need to be able to distinguish us, but…”

“This is not about them,” Rhys argues softly. “You can pick anything. I’ll call you Rhys if you want, and I’ll have everybody else do the same.”

“I don’t want you to call me Rhys,” the younger man retorts, sighing. “I liked Rhysie or Cupcake, I just don’t want to be someone completely different. I want them to see the real me – someone who was brought from a different dimension – and not pretend it’s a coincidence we look the same. Can you call me Rhysie again?”

“‘Course I can, Pumpkin Pie,” Rhys agrees, feeling Rhysie huff and grin into his neck. “Anything you ever want.”

* * *

Rhys kept his word. He made a habit of it. So, when he was reminded of the ECHOeye situation, he agreed to schedule the surgery. In the end, Rhysie got a model that changes colours. In public, he could have an orange one, similar to Rhys’, and in private, it could still be blue. Or almost brown, though that colour was still hard to get right when it came to eye cybernetics, for some reason.

During the whole surgery, Rhys had paced his office so much there was a visible trail in the carpet. He had a small episode from the stress and had to bribe Lorelei with coffee to make sure she wouldn’t tell Rhysie. Although the nickname seemed weird to his friends, they all agreed to use it as to not make the doppelganger uncomfortable.

The surgery ran into no complications, as predicted, and Rhysie’s systems were updated to new, much better software. Rhys almost regretted he didn’t agree to this sooner, _almost_. He was also glad that for once in a long while, he was able to take the caring role in their relationship. Rhysie was on bedrest for days, and so the CEO took time off to see to his every need. His cooking skills turned out to be non-existent after more than a year of not stepping into the kitchen, but thankfully, Promethea offered a plethora of fast foods and the two men didn’t starve.

When they returned to work, Rhysie began to appear publicly by Rhys’ side. They never made an official statement, but some info was purposefully leaked that he is Rhys’ advisor, and then some fabricated rumours that he is a body double, or an alien that can take many forms, or a visitor from another dimension.

* * *

One day, an unusually sad expression appeared on Rhysie’s face, one that he couldn’t even begin to cover up with a smile. He stood by the great windows of the penthouse and gazed into the night, eyes trained on the endless stretch of stars.

Seeing it made Rhys’ heart almost shatter. He hated to see his Rhysie being sad, and this was the most sad he had ever been. The first thought that crossed the older man’s mind was that Rhysie wanted to finally go home, and that was why he didn’t say anything when he walked up to the younger man and hugged him from behind, burying his nose in the fine hair on the back of his head.

They began to slightly rock to the side when Rhysie relaxed into the hug, tilting his head to rest on Rhys’ shoulder and allowing Rhys to look at the sky instead. It was beautiful. The asteroids and the darkness of the universe, hints of aurora, small flashes of colourful lights of the city far underneath them.

One could get lost in the beauty, but the only beauty Rhys allowed himself to look at was Rhysie’s reflection in the window. The exposed pale skin of his neck, the glimpse of their tattoos. Easily the most beautiful man Rhys had ever seen, and he was in his arms, looking almost relaxed. But his brows were furrowed and breathing just a little tense.

“What’s worrying you?” Rhys asks quietly, fighting not to worry his lip in anxiety. “You seem sad…” He can feel Rhysie’s chest expand in his arms on a deep inhale, but he doesn’t get an answer, and his worry only deepens.

The last year has easily been the best in his life. Rhys had never been so happy before. All his life lacked was his best bro, but Vaughn was happy on Pandora while Rhys was happy being a busy CEO of a growing megacorporation whose life was almost constantly at risk. And Rhysie – he was at least ninety percent of his happiness. Every day when he woke up with an armful of a sleepy kitten, every night when Rhysie dragged him to bed, every lunch they shared and a bucket of ice-cream they fought over.

Subconsciously, Rhys’ arms tightened around the younger man. He knew, he _promised_ , but the thought of having to let him go was terrible. He would do it; he would _never_ break this promise. But he had no idea how he would manage to get over yet another loss in his life.

Desperately, he admitted the heavy truth that laid on his heart and conscience for months. “I love you,” he said to the reflection of the man he truly loved, more than anything. Even after all this time, it felt wrong to say it. But it also felt right, like confessing to a sin. Maybe it was. Their sweet, innocent, gentle sin.

The younger man twists in his hold until he breaks free, turning around. There is shock on his face, and then, happiness. Before Rhys knows it, there are soft warm lips on his, kissing with newfound passion. He quickly catches up, their movements synchronising as he backs Rhysie against the window, caging him in against the cold glass.

The younger man breaks the kiss off, gasping for a breath and looking Rhys in the eyes like he was a treasure. Rhys cups his face with both hands, holding him so he can see him properly, see that he is there. “You’re not leaving me,” he breaths out, giddy and happy.

“I’m never leaving you,” Rhysie chuckles. “I just, I, I was worried, I,” he can’t seem to force the words out over his own happy giggle. “I thought you don’t want me like I want you!” he finally says with a blush.

A shiver runs through Rhys’ body and he nods. “I want you,” he says. He kisses the younger man again, frantically. “I want you, more than anyone, _anything_. Shit, I want you so _much_. Want to make you happy, want to make you _purr_ in satisfaction.” He continues mumbling against his skin until he is silenced by lips again.

“I am happy,” Rhysie says quickly when they part, grinning when it makes Rhys shudder.

He can’t wait any longer. Desire is burning through his body and he had already been waiting for so long. Rhys’ hands move to his Cupcake’s waist, then lower and back, picking him up by his things with only a small grunt. Rhys kept his small workout routine and it finally paid off.

They walk like that to the bedroom, Rhysie’s legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on his shoulders, both giggling and utterly happy. They crash onto the mattress in a heap, two pairs of long legs tangling up until Rhys rolls them over until he ends up on top. He pauses for a second to see if that is what Rhysie wants, and when the younger man arches of the bed, thrusting up against his hips and giving him bedroom eyes, he leans down and kisses him.

“Gosh, you’re so gorgeous!” he gasps, hands tugging the clothes off his— his _lover_. “I love you so much, you’re everything!”

“Please,” Rhysie whimpers underneath him, helping him take his clothes off until all that is left are his baby blue socks with small ice-cream cones on them. Rhys’ clothes go next, more layers, as he is still dressed for work. He keeps his dark red Atlas socks on, just for the joke of it.

“What do you want, Cupcake?” he asks, bending to suck a mark on Rhysie’s neck, where he _knows_ he likes it the most.

“Oh god, yes!” the younger man gasps, organic hand diving into his hair to keep his head there until there is a dark bruise sucked into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. As soon as the hold is loosened, Rhys moves higher, biting just under the ear. He groans when there is a sharp tug on his hair but doesn’t ease off until he hears a whimper from his _lover’s_ mouth.

“What do you want, Pumpkin Pie?” he asks again in a low voice, smiling mischievously.

“Y-you know what I want,” Rhys says, panting and trembling. Rhys can feel his hard cock against his stomach, his own length also trapped between their bodies. Yes, he knows what he wants and knows what his Cupcake wants from him. They are different in this, even though there are only a few months of life separating them. “Lay on your stomach for me, sweetheart,” Rhys hums, reaching into the bedside table for lube while the younger man complies. After the events of that fateful year, Rhys began to crave dominance more than he used to, but his innocent, sweet partner would still be happily into obediently giving control away.

Rhys pours a generous amount of lube into his palm and waits for it to warm up, then spreads Rhysie’s cheeks with his cybernetic hand. He looks gorgeous even there, well-kept like they always were. His asshole is pink and gives off the impression of virginity, but they both know that that is far from the truth.

“How long has it been?” Rhys asks rhetorically as he spreads the lube over his lover’s hole.

“Too long!” Rhysie answers with a gasp, followed by a giggle. “I hope you’ll fuck me—”

“—hard just how you like it,” Rhys finishes for him. He leans forward until his lips are pressed to the shell of Rhysie’s ear, his fingers teasing his hole while his cybernetic arm supports his weight, and he whispers: “Don’t worry your pretty little head, darlin’. I know how to make you feel good. I was you, once.” As he says it, he pushes his middle finger in, all the way to the knuckle.

The younger man moans loudly and arches off the bed, swearing when he forces himself to relax again. “Fuck, fucking fuck, Rhys!” he gasps, clenching around his finger.

“Shh,” Rhys murmurs, still keeping close to Rhysie’s face, close enough to press a kiss to the small scar above his port, which he does. “Relax, baby, and let me take care of you.” He relishes in every shiver that runs through the body underneath him but stops teasing for now, giving his Cupcake a breather.

When the younger man relaxes, the older one pulls his finger out, scooping up more lube and pushing in again, slowly fucking him with the finger. He begins to tease his rim with the tip of his index finger, pushing in when Rhysie loosens up. He chuckles – two fingers were always easy, still the same.

“More, more, more,” Rhysie mumbles as two fingers are slowly pushed into him, even though there is barely enough room for them. Rhys waits before they are fully in before deftly locating the sweet spot inside. It is a little harder to find it in a different person, but he knows the signals of the body well, and once his finger brushes over it and Rhysie tenses up, he comes back to the bundle and presses against it with intention.

“Shit!” Rhysie arches of the bed again, quickly relaxing around the two fingers in his ass as Rhys continues to massage the spot without a break. “N-no,” he whimpers when the teasing continues, writhing and squirming, simultaneously trying to get more and less. “T-too much, stop,” he pleads, but he moans in ecstasy.

“I know you can take it, Rhysie,” Rhys hums, continuing the ministrations until his lover is sobbing underneath him. Only then he pulls his fingers out, giving Rhysie a break while getting more lube. “Good boy,” he praises, massaging one buttock with his cybernetic hand. “Relaxing so easily for me.”

“Yes, please!” Rhysie sobs out, pushing his ass back and up, silently asking for more. Rhys grants him, carefully easing in three of his fingers. He is not the most endowed man out there, but he wants his lover to be prepared well. It is a trial in patience for them both, and he has to take a firm hold of Rhys’ hips to stop him from impaling himself on his fingers.

“Won’t be much longer,” he promises as he wiggles the fingers slightly, pulling out an inch and thrusting back in. “I can’t wait to fuck you. Make you scream. Make you come on my cock.”

“Shit, please, please, _please_!” the younger man begs, breaking off in another sob.

Rhys decides there has been enough and pulls his fingers out, hastily lubing himself up and hissing when the cold lube touches his flushed and erect dick. Rhysie meanwhile turns on his back again, getting two pillows under his upper back so he can watch as Rhys penetrates him.

It is a beautiful sight, watching as his dick easily slides into Rhysie’s asshole while a completely identical dick leaks precum on his stomach. He groans when the wet, tight, _tight_ heat envelops him, holding himself up with his cybernetic arm on the headboard. It is almost too overwhelming, but he manages to compose himself quickly, pulling out slowly and thrusting in.

“Fuck, Rhys,” he moans, not caring about names right now. “I love you so much, you’re so perfect. Shit, you’re taking me so well! You were made for me… _Aaah!_ ” He keeps his pace slow, sensual, and finally forces himself to open his eyes and look at his lover, swearing again when he sees him.

Rhysie’s mouth is hanging open, a bit of drool glistening in the corner, his cheeks flushed pink. His eyes are trained down, fixed on where Rhys is slowly fucking him. He is moaning, though he should be screaming.

After wiping his hand clean on the sheets, Rhys cups the younger man’s cheek, bringing their mouths together in a sensual kiss that lasts minutes before they finally part. Emotions are mirrored in their eyes, love and devotion.

In mute understanding, both men move to change their position, moving aside the pillows so Rhysie can lie down. Rhys pulls his legs up higher, getting a better angle, and begins to thrust faster, deeper, eliciting a cry from the bottom on every move. He finds his sweet spot again and focuses on it, relishing in the squirming and whimpering that follows, and finally screaming.

“I love you so much, Rhys,” he repeats, panting as he chases his orgasm, but he won’t allow himself to come before his lover does. He begins to suck on his neck again, biting in places that he knows his Cupcake loves, and when his hand wraps around his dick and the bottom begins to thrust up frantically, spilling into his hand in mere second, he knows he did it and allows himself to follow, thrusting harder and faster before stilling, filling his lover with his come, marking him from the inside.

Rhys collapses on top of Rhysie, his weight rather comforting than smothering. He presses gentle kisses anywhere he can reach, unable to stop showering him in love until Rhysie reaches up and cups his jaw, dreamy expression on his face.

“I love you too,” he says, smiling shyly.

And just like that, a heavy weight lifts off Rhys’ chest and he relaxes, arms sneaking underneath the younger man to hug him. He allows himself a couple more minutes of this before they have to clean up and go to bed, thinking himself lucky that he’s got a boyfriend who’s got the same opinion on things as him and won’t force him out of the bed too soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, but if you focus on Rhys' narcissism, you can notice the development that actually isn't development at all. In the beginning, he states that he is cute and he wants to make himself happy. He focuses a lot on the fact that _technically_ , they are different people, but this all started because he was thinking about "Rhysie" as _himself_. And as the work shows on multiple occasions, they _are_ the same person, although, they have _some_ differences.
> 
> Rhys falls in love with himself, has a relationship with himself because only he can make himself happy and because only he can care for himself.
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ElfWriting), by the way! ^.^


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